


In the Eyes of Doumeki Shizuka

by Dorotheian



Series: Canary Cage [1]
Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, POV Second Person, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 12:39:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorotheian/pseuds/Dorotheian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>XxxHolic, from beginning to end, through the eyes of Doumeki Shizuka. Split into three parts. (Not a strict retelling of canon, but not contradicting it. Doumeki's perspective includes things that Watanuki was never aware of, and some holes in XxxHolic are filled with my interpretation of what would have happened, based on the available clues and my own character interpretations.) Prequel to: "Unending Winter" and "Shall Your Wish Be Granted"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thanks

**Author's Note:**

> This will only be stated once. The following story is a fan work derived from CLAMP's manga series XxxHolic, the OVA XxxHolic: Rou (Cage), and also from the XxxHolic anime seasons 1 and 2 (Kei). I have taken the liberty of integrating a couple of quotes into the story, found in the dialogue only (although not all dialogue is from the story, either).
> 
> This fic is told in second person, but don't be put off by that. See how it feels first. I try to feel my way through second-person naturally. The technique is more easily accepted in Spanish, other romance languages, and a couple other tongues where there are more possibilities for using the word "you" to indicate levels of plurality, formality, and familiarity, but there's no reason why it can't be used to effect in English. Here, "you" is not you, the reader, but "you" Doumeki Shizuka, thinking to himself. 2nd Person is just an unusual device to enter his headspace.

**Eyes that Remember**

You are Doumeki Shizuka. You were born to a very religious family, and they own a significant temple. These days, there is only one person in your family with any real power, however—and that is your grandfather, Doumeki Haruka. He's the one who insisted that you dress like a girl for the first few years of your life until you were ten, for what other people would call superstitious reasons. Somehow, you were content to trust those reasons even though you did not completely understand them, as he explained that they were in preparation for a future time. In addition, he cheerfully informed you that he also underwent the ordeal many many years ago, when he was young. So you could never resent him for it. It's just a way of life, although at times it did bring you grief from your peers. Perhaps that's what makes you such a stoic. Instinctively, you always knew that Grandfather Haruka was the one person most like you.

It's a shock when he dies; even so, when he is gone, he is not gone. And that's what hurts most of all, until you learn to accept that that is the way things are going to be.

Parishioners still come to the temple and remember him. His artifacts and other remnants of his power are scattered everywhere. And of course, Grandfather Haruka promised he loved you, and would look out for you, when he died. Even gone, not gone.

Sometimes you have dreams of him—with him. You never really say much, but he tells you about his life and gives advice sometimes. Haruka seems to think that you will be his spiritual successor. You're not sure yet; you neither dissuade nor encourage this thinking, but in the back of your mind — if he is right, you will need his teachings. So you treasure them: little by little you wheedle hints from his old friends, and find his last effects, the books that he wrote, and the physical things which you carry away to the storehouse. To do so forces you to explore the temple, and as you search, you find even more interesting things: things that Haruka had hidden, protected, or sealed. More often than not you leave them alone, for they require more discernment to deal with than you have at the time. It is important to know what they are and why they are there. Over time Haruka's presence in your dreams wanes, but he is never far from your thoughts.

**What You See is What You Get**

You're entering high school, and attending orientation is required.

As you turn the corner on a stairwell, a strange boy flies out of nowhere with a snap-kick to the face. You duck and are just barely able to avoid it.

He is too aggravated to apologize, and he can't explain why he kicked you or what made him do it. He insists that he saw you and hated you at first glance, and his body just 'moved on its own.'

This is obviously a lie—even you, a complete stranger, can tell—but by the end of the day he has convinced himself and everyone else that this  _was_  the truth. There's more to the story, but he won't tell. The problem is, he was already running before he saw you, and although you cannot be sure, his eyes didn't seem to be quite focused on...you. As if they were looking for something else a little ways beyond you.

How annoying. You expect you'll run into him rather often.

Everyone knows about "love at first sight," which is silly, but "hate at first sight" is an even more stupid excuse for, well, anything...

**And, in a Mere Instant's Glimpse, Got More Than You Bargained For**

School starts. He remembers you, and avoids you like the plague. You learn that his name is Watanuki Kimihiro and that if you talk to him, he makes weird movements and yells at you, full of irritation and annoyance.

If he would only stop being so noisy and listen, maybe you could be friends. Watanuki is like a cat: very particular, sensitive, never failing to show unmistakable displeasure… If you say anything, anything at all, Watanuki reacts radically, and takes his time calming down.

It isn't what Watanuki says that bothers you—it's the tone he says it in, a kind of mock anger. Like he's brushing you aside, because he has decided that he knows what you will do before you do it, and doesn't like what he foresees. He practically invites a comeback. If you were more skilled at the art, you might indulge him. At the same time, he means what he says, in a general way: he doesn't  _like_  you and wants nothing to do with you. He must not know how he sounds, or perhaps he doesn't know what he wants. But you know he wouldn't get so angry if he didn't  _care_ , on some level. Certainly he doesn't treat anyone else the way he treats you.

For your part, you don't know why Watanuki has attracted your gaze, bothersome as he is. All you know is that you can't stop watching. It's a lot of effort to filter out the noise each day, but you've always been good at persisting until you get to the heart of the matter. You will watch and listen until you have your answer.

At least for now, he won't let you get close to him.

**Observer Effect, Mirrored**

It's been a very cold winter, and you are fifteen… It's raining so hard.

Despite your better judgment, you take out your umbrella and walk out by the riverside, which is full to overflowing. Although the day is damp and dreary, you can't help but feel that the rain is beautiful, even as full of sorrow as it is. You frown. Normally you don't ascribe feelings to inanimate things, like the rain, though your grandfather has told you often enough that all of nature is alive in its way.

You look. There is Watanuki, dressed in a black school uniform and kneeling by the riverbank. He is the source of the sorrow you felt. He has no umbrella. He drips with rain. You walk closer, thinking you should offer your assistance. For the first time you really get a good look at him.

His hair is rather fine, almost wispy looking; despite the rain, a couple of locks of it keep trying to rise. His eyes are dark blue, and roil with a subtle power like the current of a deep sea. Watanuki is slight, and though he is actually a couple of inches shorter than you, he seems taller. He stands straight, bending over only slightly at the shoulders over something he holds in his arms.

You stop in shock. He's holding a dead kitten in his arms and crying, head bowed, murmuring to himself about how everyone he knows and loved has died or disappeared; that it's only a matter of time before, like them, he fears that he might leave this world someday. That he too will die like this, alone. He wonders about what the meaning of life is, when there is such suffering in it.

Your heart catches on his soft, half-mumbled words.

If your heart is a rock, then it must be soft as talc. Now he isn't alone, and you won't  _let_  him be alone, if you can help it. If only he knew, and would let you in…you would stand by his side until… Imagination fails you.

But you walk on, deciding not to offer him the umbrella or let him know that you saw him after all. He would be embarrassed at being seen so weak like that, by a hated stranger of all things. You wish you could.

You must wait.

**Watching and Waiting**

There is a witch who knew your grandfather. Her alias is Ichihara Yuuko. She is strong and wise, but more rigid than any other magic worker that you know through your grandfather's acquaintances. Her business is wish-granting, and her shop can only be seen by those who have need of it. Yuuko is bound by the idea of  _hitsuzen_ , of fate as a matter of inevitability, and she lives by the law of fair compensation: every wish has an exact price. The only leeway she has is her interpretation of what a fair price is…and what constitutes a fair granting of the wish. This is only a small mercy, for if she extrapolates too far, the difference will fall at her feet. She has been practicing for so many years that she has become cunning with her art, and so accustomed to its rules that she cannot separate her shopkeeper's worldview from her everyday conduct. Yuuko embodies the principle that Grandfather Haruka often repeated, somewhat sadly: "The only things that can be given without a price to be paid are one's own feelings." Most other magic workers will bend the "rules" a little for their family and friends. She won't. But then, she's strict because she has to be.

As it turns out, Watanuki is Yuuko's assistant. When Yuuko first heard of you, she realized that you might be of help to Watanuki. She explains to you that Watanuki attracts spirits, and that you have latent exorcist powers, inherited from your grandfather. The revelation is not surprising; indeed, it is something of a relief, for it is welcome confirmation of his grandfather's words. You have a place now, and a goal: to inherit the family temple, and become a worthy successor.

Your first challenge is investigating the Angel Game at a nearby school. Himawari Kunogi was the one who made the wish. It is completely obvious that Watanuki is head-over-heels adoring of her. The exorcism is, for the most part, a success.

Watanuki does not thank you for your help. He grudgingly accepts Yuuko's price for your help and the injury you sustained to your right arm, which is that while the arm heals, Watanuki will make lunches for you and do household-type favors. You were skeptical at first, but that didn't last long. Despite the fact that he hates you, the food that he makes is sinfully delicious and, oddly, comforting. Anyone who cooks like this cannot be a bad person inside. At school, you end up eating every day with Watanuki and Kunogi. No matter the reason, now you are  _in_ , there to stay, and it is clear to you at least that Yuuko encouraged this to happen.

Watanuki may gripe and grouse, but he'll also cook anything you ask of him. And you do ask (or demand, as Watanuki sees it). It's mostly Watanuki's pride that keeps him from backing down from the challenge: he likes to cook, and his skills are excellent. But there's something else as well. If only for the cooking, you'd like to stay around…you are getting spoiled. By the end of two weeks, your arm has healed and Watanuki's payment is done, but the group is firmly established. Watanuki never fails to grumble about your presence and admonish you for rudeness, but he never chases you off, either—although he's clearly not happy that you are there.

After awhile, you realize that Watanuki's funny little 'war dances' have become rather endearing, and you know exactly how to provoke them, and thus how to distract him. You've learned to ignore what he says, even if you have to stick your fingers in your ears to do it, and stick to the rituals he outlined for you. He won't admit it, but you know he finds them—well, not exactly comforting, or soothing, but definitely necessary so that he can relax (however hyperactive this state appears to be). It dawns on you that the rituals represent the stability of the community in his life. The idea that the people he loves won't leave him is something he doesn't quite let himself believe in. That's probably the reason for the mixed messages.

After each succeeding realization, it is easier and easier to read between the lines of Watanuki's actions and pick up the clues that allow you to filter out the truth, until the truth becomes so obvious that it is hard to imagine not knowing.

At first you didn't take much notice of her, but there's something that bothers you about Kunogi. She puts up a sunny, cheerful face every day, much like her namesake— _himawari_ , the sunflower. It feels contrived. Her disposition never changes, and her idle chat fills up time agreeably but lacks meaning. Her very words feel shallow. And it isn't that Kunogi isn't intelligent or a deep thinker. Quite the opposite—you can sense it, that she has to  _work_  to curb her conversation this way, and she has to be clever to discourage the many opportunities to strengthen the relationships she has. She knows she needs friends. She's an attractive, cheerful person. She doesn't avoid making connections. But she is very careful to make sure that the connections are nothing more than skin deep.

When Kunogi "accidentally" pushes him away, Watanuki is driven crazy. he's too besotted to see how guarded she is. Actually, he doesn't want to see. He chalks up the brushing-off to coincidence, or her best intentions, and never thinks twice.

How can it be a coincidence that he is so blind to reality when it comes to the two of you?

**Sights Unshared**

On the latest mission, Watanuki takes you to a strange hydrangea, a tall, long-lived one with crimson petals. The Ame-Warashi, spirit of the rain, claims it is dying. There are legends about this, so you have a hunch that something will go wrong. The only tool you have is Kunogi's hair ties, but you also have no idea how to use them. Yuuko never bothered to say.

Barely five minutes after you and Watanuki have been investigating, Watanuki is pulled into the hydrangea and disappears. Perhaps underground? You begin digging, with your hands alone, because you have nothing else to work with. The dirt gets under your fingernails, and the tender skin of your palms will be sore tomorrow. You don't care. You ignore it and keep digging. The work is terribly draining.

Yuuko shows up and gives you some unsolicited advice of which you are in dire need. You will never find him that way, she says. She tells you to wait, and while you do so, to hold Kunogi's hair tie at one end. It looks dumb, it sounds dumb. You do it. Yuuko goes away again.

For hours you wait. It rains. It stops. It pours. It slacks off, but by then you are drenched, soaking, and wet. Still you will not leave—sheer stubbornness, you suppose. You're strong enough to do this. You won't give up on Watanuki and leave him to disappear. For now, it's your responsibility. There's something that draws you to the other boy and tells you that he needs you, no matter what he says otherwise. Eventually it's all you can do to keep your eyes open and keep sitting, meditating.

Finally Watanuki's body fades back into existence, clutching the other end of your ribbon; as you look down, you see that a skeleton has attached itself to Watanuki's other wrist. The old legends were right. Watanuki swears it was only ten minutes for him, down there, in the land between life and death. And that's such a precarious place for him to be—doesn't he realize that?

Unnoticed, the hydrangea flowers have faded to a less alarming blue color.

Once again, Watanuki is unable to thank you properly. This time, the refusal stings a little more. Of course you won't show it. You are patient. It's not your place to scold. He doesn't understand himself, or how much danger he was in, any more than he understands you and how much you care for him. His regard for his own life is very low. He can't see why you would care, let alone bring himself to accept your feelings. Although, if asked, you would be first to admit that you are not one for making expressions full of feeling … and Watanuki is not as good at reading between the lines as you are.

**Eyes That Do Not See**

It's  _obon_. Kunogi sent you a letter sending her regards and her thoughts of the holiday. By chance, you happen to meet Watanuki at the park, and he proceeds to go through his jealousies of you, mainly that you attract girls' attention and their gifts. To be honest, you'd rather not be fussed over like that. It's a lot of bother to decide what to do next, and how to turn the girls down without hurting their feelings or accidentally encouraging them. You have no idea why they are attracted to you, and Watanuki hasn't a clue either. What's attractive about a person who is stiff, unromantic, practical, and (according to Watanuki) rude? You don't have any illusions about yourself.

Well, if you both have no clue about it, then that's one thing you both have in common. If Watanuki wasn't too busy making assumptions... Oh. Apparently you got Kunogi's card and he didn't. He was lying.  _Bother._  That's a bad habit. Why does he do that?

He's brought some treats he made for  _obon_  and absentmindedly shares one with you. Watanuki's distracted again. You didn't say anything— Ah. He's watching a firefly, and then... There's a... You have to squint, and then it becomes clearer. A girl. A blue-haired girl. Oh, no. She's  _not_  up your alley. That's a spirit. A powerful one, at that.

But Watanuki doesn't seem aware. Worse yet, he assumed that the one the girl was interested in was you, although she hadn't said anything yet. Speaking of which, neither have you.

She's apologizing. Now she's talking about a gift... She got up and faced you. She leans forward and reaches, and you slide back... What? Her hand—went into your stomach—  _Eurgh,_  everything's gone indefinite...there's a sour, rotten taste in your mouth from being so violated, a wrenching from deep in your gut... Your eyes roll up in your head and you faint.

[...]

_(The world. It's black. This is not good, not at all.)_

(Except there's speckles of blue, like the blue of the firefly Watanuki was watching. There's a good feeling all about you. A pure feeling. It's very similar to the feeling you get from Grandfather Haruka's strongest exorcist wards... Pure goodness, except this goodness is so delicate and innocent that it is easily tainted by evil... It hasn't any strength; at least in the past, it has been too shy and timid to endure testing. However, in the future it may be possible: in the far distance, golden ripples of determination are making their way across the landscape, moving slowly like thunderclouds, irresistible and arresting...)

_(The clouds pass away. By and by...no telling with time...)_

(Another aura. This one is anxious. There are all kinds of nervous tension, and shivers run through you as it does through everything in this space. Irritation, annoyance, a twitch of anger, a smidgeon of jealousy here and there. And yet, overall, this place is cheerful. There is kindness, too...a good will...through that kindness is a nice, peaceful reserve of patience...the only one in this place...and it is rather small... And then everything changes: space freezes into stark "black" and "white," and casts careening shadows wildly everywhere, a thousand different shadows with a thousand different light sources. Though you have no feet, the grasp that you thought you had on this space—the structure itself—is dissolving, you are falling off the edge of the abyss, an abyss you had no idea was there, like droplets of water careen into a waterfall... There is no breath to scream, there is only the horror of falling itself, of no control, of the unknown echoes through your mind again and again and again, again and again and again and you are still falling again and again and again horrifying horrifying horrifying)

[...]

"Hhhhh!" That was your gasp for breath. There is Watanuki—and Yuuko—right in front of you—

Oh, your head  _hurts,_  it hurts like the dickens and you're not one to make unnecessary complaints. Something happened. Something big.

For a moment there, Watanuki looked concerned.

Everything that Watanuki and Yuuko say after that makes no sense. Your soul was an  _obon_  gift? The blue-haired girl—no, some girl—gave Watanuki an  _obon_  gift? And it was...your soul? But he...gave it back? So what was...the point?  _Huh_? How, exactly, has anything been accomplished here?

Yuuko's story to explain everything is really interesting but you have no idea what she's saying. You aren't quite paying attention to your replies; when you listen to yourself, you sound really interested. Perplexing. How do you do that? Watanuki's going to get mad again. But maybe that was the point. Yuuko seems to like provoking him like that. Usually by using you.

After a good night's sleep, everything is better. Your thoughts are more coherent and connected to yourself. Of course, Watanuki's upset that it looks like nothing ever happened...but who can help that? Would it be better to act like you're sick? Or something? What a waste of effort. Hmph. Utterly illogical. You didn't make this much fuss afterwards when he almost crossed into death under that blood-drenched hydrangea. He barely noticed time passing, and he wasn't the one who had to battle the flu because of the rain which weakened your constitution for a whole week.

In the middle of his ranting, you interrupt. "If you want to make me feel better, make me..." You pick a food at random off the top of your head. Albeit a bit nonplussed at being interrupted, Watanuki remembers. The next day you can't even remember what you chose, but there it is and he's complaining about it. He never changes. The focus of his grumbling has just switched to another topic.

There's something...this feels familiar. But it's strange. It feels like a memory from that day in the park, but you can't remember. You shrug. Must be something you picked up on the day your soul was temporarily stolen. Maybe it will come back to you when you need it. And then again—maybe not all of that memory was something you  _want_  to remember.

**Summer House By the Blue**

Yuuko suddenly announces that it is time for a vacation. Watanuki wants to go to the beach, which does him absolutely no good because the sea is filled with spirits and he can't even swim. He wouldn't have any fun, but he liked the idea too much. But how could anyone have fun if he couldn't come out to be with everyone else?

It was all Kunogi's idea. Everything. You didn't think it would work, but you didn't see why you shouldn't let her try. And it was a nice thought. You did your part.

Watanuki was just a bigger blockhead than anyone could have predicted. He could have done it any time, for practically anything. You hinted. Kunogi hinted. Yuuko _oozed_  and  _dripped_  with not-so-cryptic hints.

Mokona figured out an elaborate stunt and almost succeeded in scaring Watanuki out of his wits, and you, Doumeki, arrived to save him. No luck. Some trick.

Apparently, there is nothing in this entire world that can pull a simple 'thank-you' out of Watanuki's mouth before he is good and ready. Which is nothing new.

He is so  _frustrating_.

You suppose you could have helped him into the sea any time, no matter what kind of deal Kunogi and Yuuko set up, but Watanuki's reticence is like an insurpassable wall between you. The balance is uneven and he refuses to see it. It goes against your nature to go out of your way to do nice things for him when he won't even acknowledge them.

You were kind of looking forward to playing with him. The refusal hurts. You're not going to agree to try and push him on this again. It does no good. Just be patient...

**Errands**

Despite everything, Watanuki has taken to enlisting your help on various and sundry tasks that may or may not be coming from Yuuko. This is usually because Kunogi habitually dodges the invitations and there is no one else to ask or you just happened to be around. Watanuki has a knack for noticing weird things happening that no one else can see, and he likes to follow them around. With you. Whether the business starts at Yuuko's or not, Yuuko seems to show up in the end.

It's rather boring. He'll ask you to look for something, and if you can't see it, then it's spirit business and sometimes he'll explain and sometimes he won't. There was something to do with these angel wings, once, and then a couple of twins which he somehow convinced you to do a double date with, and a couple of other minor things.

It's not all that bad. He's gotten used to your company—or resigned to it. He's less likely to get into trouble with you there, so you agree. And these days, you have plenty of excuses to bribe him for a bento.

 **One Eye** ** _for_ ** **You, Always**

Yuuko is gone on a business trip. Watanuki is alone, and he behaves as usual—until he starts coughing, and a fever falls over him that won't go away. You don't know why, he doesn't know why, but it can't be natural. You give suggestions, but he won't follow them. Or can't. You're on the brink of dragging him back to Yuuko's shop yourself—would've done it before, but archery season is in full swing. It has to be you that does it. You have the most awful, dreadful feeling that it would be a bad idea to ask Kunogi to do it; it's irrational, but the gut instinct is so strong that you can't ignore it.

Which is frustrating, and you don't understand Watanuki's resistance until you see the woman…

But after watching... They know. They both know that she is killing him, poisoning him slowly, although they say nothing. Watanuki knows, but doesn't care for his life enough, and he cares for her too much. She gives him something he has not felt for a long time: the love of a mother. He'll take it, whether it comes from a human or not.

You have the power to end this now. The night Yuuko organized the ghost-story telling at your temple, she taught you how to shoot an exorcising arrow that will banish and destroy spirits and monsters. All you need is your bow. You could do it now. Maybe it wouldn't hurt as much, to make a clean break between them—Watanuki doesn't even have to see. But you are reluctant. You doubt that judgment. Watanuki...he's attached, and despite only the little bit of time spent together, the connection is deep and rooted in the neglected recesses of Watanuki's soul. And as yet there's still time to persuade Watanuki to take another path, as futile as the effort may seem.

To your surprise, Watanuki finally took your advice and went to the shop. There, he collapsed. The phone he was about to pick up lay mere inches from his fingers. Yuuko quickly gets in contact with you, and you rush over to watch over him. Watanuki won't be dissuaded, he's absolutely adamant, and you know the effort is almost useless. He made a promise. The hope that had begun to spark is even slimmer now.

Watanuki had seemed interested in going to the archery contest the next day to watch you play, but of course it ended up that he couldn't make it. He already made a promise.

You won the contest, but you can't bring yourself to care; you leave before the prizes are awarded and let your mother collect them. Maybe it's rude, but life, death—that's more important. Somehow, you manage to find Watanuki, carrying your bow at your side, and you tell him to move aside. He knows what this means. Though weak and coughing pathetically, he shields the woman with his body.

There are only two choices now, and both of them will hurt. You could lose Watanuki to death, or you could vanquish the spirit and earn Watanuki's wrath. If Watanuki keeps blocking the path of the arrow to the woman, the arrow will go through his body; at what price, you don't know, but at least he will not die. That you know for sure. Even though it is for his own well-being, you haven't much hope that Watanuki will forgive you for killing the woman. Either way, this will be the end. And yet in your eyes, there is no choice to be made at all.

You draw back the bow, and aim as carefully as ever. The arrow flies.

The woman rushes in front of Watanuki and takes it for herself. She really must have been a good spirit, like Watanuki said, in spite of her nature. Even so, you cannot feel pity for her, only relief that the exorcising arrow didn't hit Watanuki after all. She turns into golden light; Watanuki cradles the scraps of it that he can, looking as if he is listening desperately. The expression on his face is strange. He collapses, and you take him home, to Yuuko.

You don't expect anything— No, that's not true. Watanuki has always said that he hated you, and finally you have done something to be worthy of it. There will be no mercy. You are certain.

It makes you so afraid.

The next day at school, you have to strongly resist the temptation to avoid him. You aren't nearly as calm and cool and collected as you know you look, even if you are heir to the Buddhist temple. All you want to do is run away from him before he can say a single word. With one word, he could undo you.

When you finally do pass each other by in the hall, he asks you to wait. After a few agonizing moments—he must have been struggling with himself right up until the moment he says it—he says you can eat lunch with him. Since he "invited Himawari-chan already and all."

There is nothing left but tangled relief and sheer amazement. And then—you are crushingly grateful. He understood. Quickly, coolly, you slide back into yourself—beady-eyed, oafish, mannerless, selfish, loutish, sly Doumeki Shizuka, those qualities Watanuki reminds you of every day—pretending to have the confidence, the utter arrogance, to believe that Watanuki will not refuse your ridiculous luncheon demands and that nothing at all has changed. Still—it will not be the same.

You won't forget, you will never forget what you did for him, and how he forgave you for it.

**One Eye on You: An Eye for an Eye**

Watanuki is imperious now. "Bow before me, Doumeki, blah blah blah… I'll make you something so good you'll have no choice but to kneel at my feet, blah blah blah…" He laughs as hysterically as a villain. Well, he has that right. It's better than being insulted. And truly, you do feel like you have something of a debt to him, for forgiving you.

Watanuki is always rushing into scrapes—this time he's managed to entangle himself in a spider's web. Without thinking, you brush it off without his asking. But the spider's grudge surprises you, and it shouldn't have. It's a common tale of misfortune. You were careless. You weren't thinking.

You try to hide it from Watanuki. He finds out anyway. As perverse as he is, he takes the grudge on himself. He didn't even ask you. Perhaps he thinks he should have received the grudge in the first place. But at least now you  _know_  he cares for you…a lot. The thought inspires equal exasperation and affection for your fickle friend.

Still. How utterly stupid. The entire underworld wants  _his_  eye, not yours. Watanuki draws spirits, so his eye will give them great power. Your own eye would be worse than useless, as a latent exorcist…perhaps it might even be poisonous? But it is done: Watanuki's eye is probably lost forever. Yours would probably have stayed intact, only sealed, until amends could be made to the spider. To make matters worse, a bookworm resting in Kunogi's borrowed book ate up your only written record of a method for safely restoring his eye. You couldn't have known about the bookworm, but you are still partly responsible for allowing the book to enter your grandfather's storeroom: you weren't careful enough. Furthermore, that particular tome was an important record of grandfather Haruka's. In your desperation, you care more about the information that was lost—but Haruka's words—nay, even the shapes of his letters—are precious for their own sake. You will mourn for them later.

After that there's no chance of regaining Watanuki's eye. You knew that even before he got back from the spirit world. So you give him half of yours. The chastened fool doesn't protest, but accepts the gift quietly, making you feel a little lighter inside. This, by itself, is thanks enough. Watanuki also apologizes, which is not the same as thanks but now you don't feel quite as angry anymore. Everything will be all right. In some ways, it will be better than all right. For now you can see the spirits that Watanuki has avoided for all these years. You have more of "an eye on him" than ever before; your wish is very nearly literal…and you are closer than ever.

And finally, Watanuki has admitted that he needs you. Not in so many words, of course, but he seeks you out first even when Yuuko doesn't ask for you specifically or there wasn't a reason to consult you. Sometimes he asks you to tell him what you see through your half-eye, and it is this way that you realize how eerily real the spirit world is to him. He truly can't tell the difference between a human spirit or a spirit in human guise and a human itself. And even when he can occasionally tell, he treats the higher spirits with the same kindness as he shows to humans.

**Not the First Sacrifice**

Bad luck has been piling up lately. Even you've noticed. It took you a year, but at last you've realized why. It must be a bad season for Kunogi this year. Watanuki is worried, but he refuses to place blame on anyone for it but himself.

Yuuko has grown more urgent, not that she looks it, and she drops hints about Himawari Kunogi's bad luck constantly. Poor Watanuki can make neither heads nor tails of it, and Yuuko is not one to speak plain. There's a good chance that your exhortations, drawn from instinct rather than knowledge, would confuse him further. You would probably only convince him that his precious Himawari-chan is an innocent martyr, and that's not quite the exact truth. She knows exactly who she is and what she is risking. He's got to learn someday, and knowing Watanuki, it won't happen until he brushes right into the fire, and the experience is undeniable.

When he says he doesn't want you to accompany him for the day, you hum and say nothing. So you don't accompany him, but stalk him from across the hall, and watch.

You're still unprepared for it. Kunogi taps Watanuki on the right shoulder, and disaster doesn't happen immediately. It's such a gentle, normal gesture that you didn't quite notice, either. But then Watanuki walks forward, and accidentally knocks into a window pane … with the touched right shoulder…and you remember. He shouldn't have been walking fast or forcefully enough to do it. He falls out the window, taking the entire window pane with him, and the pane shatters on the ground below.

Kunogi is screaming, sheer raw screaming with rage and frustration and grief and despair all mixed up. She's not frightened. No, she is, but—well, she already  _knows_. Watanuki will die soon. Class will be out in  _seconds._

You can't move for shock. You're afraid to look outside, and it would be a waste of time anyway. Watanuki might already be dead. There's sure to be blood, blood, blood everywhere… Thinking it, the paralysis breaks. You run, run to the nearest phone to dial the ambulance, but as soon as you pick it up, Yuuko's voice answers the phone without any number dialed. Yuuko tells you to bring him to the shop. "What if his spine is messed up?" you ask. "Moving him will…"

"Kill him," she says grimly, and pauses. "Yes, it's possible. Good thinking, Doumeki. I will send a messenger to put his body in stasis—go down and wait for my butterfly to land on him. When you pick him up, it will produce a barrier against the spirits which have caught scent of his blood, and it will also disguise you as a medical official. Otherwise the school would never let you take him away."

"Got it," you say tightly, and hang up, and you run down the stairs and into the courtyard as fast as your legs can take you. You dive to your knees beside the blood—oh, the blood—it's just as bad as you thought—no, worse—and the messenger butterfly is already there, perched on his fine black hair and flapping its magnificent violet wings gently.

Aware that there are eyes on you, you carefully brush the glass off of Watanuki's body and pick him up in a fireman's carry, as firmly as you can. Your own hands are now stained with blood from the sharp glass. Can't be helped. You start running…

It seems an eternity before you get to Yuuko's shop, and for the first time you can really see it. The real shop, you see, rather than the empty, unkempt grass lot. It's really there. Yuuko opens the gates ahead of you and the Maru and Moro have already slid open each door, and you follow the openings in the  _shoji_  until you get to the room that has been prepared for Watanuki. You lay him down on the coverlet, and sink to your knees. You cup his face between your hands and stare intently into his vulnerable face, watching for any change. The room seems to narrow around Watanuki, shielding, protecting, stabilizing him—at least for the moment.

Yuuko enters. "You have a wish."

"Yes," you breathe, drawing back from his body.  _At last_. "I do." You squeeze Watanuki's hand briefly, then release it. If he was awake, he would have something to say about that.

"You wish to save Watanuki's life. I require blood, an equal amount to what he lost."

"Are we even the same blood type?" You rub your forehead. Why are you asking questions at a time like this?

She smiles mysteriously. "It doesn't matter. Really, Doumeki-kun, you must learn that  _symbols_  matter most in magic, not physicality."

"Of course you're right," you say quietly, and close your eyes. "Please."

"On the other hand, have you given any blood at all in the last year?" You shake your head. " _Yokatta_ ," she sighs, a rare sight of relief, and then excuses herself. "One moment." She leaves the room. Kunogi Himawari is there, in the hall, silently crying streams of tears. Yuuko bargains with her, voice soft.

The first thing you hear clearly is when Kunogi says, "That's all? Are you sure, Yuuko? Will Kimihiro-kun be all right?"

"Yes," Yuuko replies softly. "Doumeki, and one other, will pay the rest."

"Don't make this burden lighter on me," says Kunogi, in a strangely flat voice. You imagine that she's clenching her fists.

"I do not. I take only what you can pay." Yuuko waits impassively.

"Then do it! By all means, do it, Yuuko-san, please!" she begs.

"Yes. But Doumeki is first. Come, Doumeki."

Yuuko leads you to another room and takes a ceremonial knife from the storage room. She draws a circle, with a section for you and a section for her, and places the knife in the middle. Maru and Moro fetch bowls. Yuuko enchants the bowls, lays them properly in the circle, and enchants the knife in a language you cannot understand.

"Be still," she commands you, and releases the knife. For a moment it hovers in the air, and then the blade re-orients, and it slices forward, quick as a flash—

Refusing to flinch, you close your eyes. It hurts. Everything hurts, an aching, tiring, exhausting hurt. You barely feel the slashes, themselves, but the blood flowing out of you, making little arcs into the bowls, is making you nauseated. So much. So much.

…It's over. Yuuko is done. You faint.

**The Face of the Sunflower**

When you wake up, you are propped outside the room, in the hall.

For a moment there is dead silence. Then, Kunogi screams—and screams, and screams…Suddenly, the howling stops, and now…she's whimpering.

"There, was that too light of a burden?" says Yuuko, a little dangerously.

" _No."_  Kunogi is silent after that, except for the occasional gasp of pain.

Finally Kunogi comes out into the hall where you are, and turns around. Her back is straight and proud. "My price," she says, and lifts her hair so you can see the ends of new, red, angry scars on her neck peeking over the edge of her collar. There must be more, lower down, and especially over the shoulder.

"Impressive…" you whisper, sucking a breath between your teeth, and close your eyes, fighting sleep.

"Come, Doumeki. Let's go to Watanuki's room." Kunogi makes a movement to help you up, but thinks better of it and tucks her hands behind her back, curling her fingers guiltily. Yuuko steps in, instead, and with her help you can half-crawl, humiliated and floundering, to Watanuki's bedroom. You curl up just outside, and doze, and the blood dries on your skin and clothes while Watanuki heals. Kunogi goes outside to play with Moro and Maru, because they have no souls and apparently aren't affected by her bad luck. The witch's familiars are all more subdued than usual.

You hear everything when Watanuki wakes and he speaks with Yuuko, and asks to speak with Kunogi. Kunogi hears and passes you as she enters the room. Her face is set and hard, strong, but not brittle, with an expression that you have never seen before. She walks inside and speaks to him and shatters his dreams with the truth. She leaves, not looking at you, looking upset but also, at the same time, unawares, she is smiling to herself.

Yuuko speaks with Watanuki again, and he asks her about the prices. Watanuki doesn't know at first that you paid a third of the price for his life in your blood. He's most concerned about Himawari-chan…as he should be; she looked dangerously unstable when she passed you in the hall. To your irritation, though, it's all that Watanuki can think about. Once again, you fall into a light doze.

When Watanuki has also fallen asleep, Kunogi comes and wheedles you into coming out onto the porch before she takes you home, because she knows you are still too tired to go just yet. She isn't ready to go home either. It looks like she needs to talk — for real, this time, at last. She sits down, hunching slightly. "Amazing, isn't he?" she says, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling them to her chest.

"Aye."

"I've been waiting so long, Doumeki-kun; I've been waiting eleven years to say what I said to Watanuki. I couldn't stop myself. I let it all out." Kunogi chuckles prettily enough, but the darkness in her heart escapes through the sound and blossoms in the air around her. She tinges the final moments of the day with the winnowing breath of night. She looks better, to get rid of that poison. And you know, suddenly, why she is here, talking to you. She wants to confess everything.

"Doumeki-kun, I am—this terribly twisted person, inside. Finally I let him see that, at least." Kunogi laughs softly. "It's so selfish—so terrible of me—but I wanted him to be the first person who knew my secret. I mean that because while people have guessed, like you, I'd never told anyone. I began to doubt that I ever could.

"But then I met him, and I thought—he could be someone to whom I could tell everything. He was so gentle and kind. But he was also so, so blind and innocent, I despaired of ever telling him the truth. And every time I despaired, I became angry with him for refusing to see. Though I tried to stop, I began to...to wish. I craved disaster on a scale that he couldn't ignore." Tears spring to her eyes. "Although it wasn't very much...I became careless...because I wished for something, anything, to happen. I needed him to see it. I needed him to know."

"But not like this." You say it very smoothly, evenly. There's not a hint of anger or impatience in your tone.

Still, she picks up on something. Maybe, to those who look, you don't have such a stone face after all. She looks up at you, as if she hasn't ever looked at you properly before, and sees you for the first time. "No," she says slowly.  _I know it's an excuse. I know it doesn't make any difference to you_ , her posture whispers, and her eyes say sadly,  _But still I dare to ask for your mercy, your kindness, your forgiveness._  Her eyes search your face. "Not like this."

You can't forgive her just yet. She has some responsibility for the mess Watanuki finds himself in. You can't excuse her feelings. Out of love for Watanuki, some part of you has closed itself to pity for this girl. You understand—but the knowledge is somehow made remote. It may be unreasonable, it may be the cruelest demand you have ever wanted to ask of a person, but part of you insists, with stone-cold, sinking heavy certainty, that if Kunogi really cared about Watanuki, she would have found a way to prevent this from happening. Regardless of what Kunogi needs or deserves, because of your love for him, you will always defer to Watanuki's well-being.

But Kunogi also paid the price for Watanuki. Twisted, desperate, starved for tiny morsels of friendship and truth, she is still his true friend, and he hers. She didn't mean harm, and she hoped for something good. And that has to be enough.

Finally something in your eyes gives her relief, for she releases a sigh and looks away. "He forgave me, Doumeki-kun," she says wonderingly, twisting her hands over her heart. She stares out, out into the dusky darkness hovering over Yuuko's twilight garden. "Doumeki-kun, how can he say that? How can he say that, and mean it?"

"I don't know," you say. "He just does." You pause. There  _could_  be a reason. "He loves you," you tell her dully, and your heart aches somehow. You don't even have the energy to add anything, like the fact that he's a complete idiot, to that statement. Whatever Watanuki may have thought, those two have no future together.

"Do-do-dou- _Doumeki-kun_ ," Kunogi stutters, half-laughing. " _That_  is  _not_  the answer." Then she smiles a trifle ruefully. "He's just infatuated. It'll pass." A sad smile flutters across her lips, and you know she's done talking. The time for truth is over. Kunogi hops off the porch and stands in the garden, tall and straight, beaming with sorrow and pride like the  _himawari_ sunflower. She beckons you to follow her. "It's late, and you're tired; I'm afraid you won't make it, if you wait. Come. I'll lead you. Let's go home." She turns to face the west and the fading sun, and starts walking.

Kunogi leads your body away from the wishing shop, but as you walk away, your head is curiously empty. Your thoughts haven't returned from that place, as if you left them behind in the shop with Watanuki. Kunogi sees you to the temple, bows, and walks home by herself. You enter the house, crawl into bed and sleep, and dream no dreams, none at all.

**Repayment Honored**

The next day, Watanuki makes Kunogi Himawari-chan a bird that will stay by her side forever, untouched by her bad luck. Kunogi's joy is sincere.

That same day _, he thanks you._

Once again Watanuki has surprised you into not quite believing your ears. And you can't see his face, which is carefully turned away. Curiously, you lean over and crane your neck to catch a glimpse; he covers his face with his hands, too embarrassed for you to see. As irritating as that is, that means—

He really means it.

Any other person would probably say cheerfully, "Well, it's about time! What were you  _waiting_  for? Was giving you half of my eye not enough, or something?" Half of you would like to say that, but it would be counter-productive…and the other half of you has already forgiven him completely.

Huh, his glasses are gone. They must have broken in the fall. Without the glass covering them, you can see the roiling blue of his left eye, and the subdued, swampy golden-green of his right...mysterious and secretive.


	2. Trust

**Through the Eye of Another is One Other**

Through Watanuki's half-eye you see a girl, a sad and lonely girl under a  _sakura_  tree, the same  _sakura_  that the spring lady possessed, causing its unseasonal blooms.

A few weeks later, Watanuki introduces you to the girl, and you can see a resemblance in some ways: like him, she is kind, gentle, lonely, innocent despite knowing other-worldly horrors, and irreversibly bound to the spirit world. Similar, but not the same. Her name is Tsuyuri Kohane. It is clear that Watanuki already has some history with her, and for some reason that makes you feel happy. Watanuki rarely reaches out to make friends, even though he needs them. In the beginning, he would never have got up the courage to talk to Himawari-chan alone, and Yuuko practically forced him to get along with you.

Kohane whispers something to just the two of you: it's more than just the eye. You and Watanuki are "mixed together." You wonder—in what way? It's possible that she is referring to the trade (Watanuki has his sight, and you can see the supernatural through his eye), but you don't think so. To your way of thinking, Watanuki gave you more than he gained. So she must mean something else...

She's a talented seer, and has been on TV several times. Although she always tells the truth, her costars lie and conspire to crush her, just because they see her as a rival and an upstart. Her mother is a scary creature: paranoid, sharp with fear, stern, strict in all the wrong ways, set on a path of suffering that only she can see. Watanuki's face always twitches when he sees her, as if he can sense something but hasn't realized it yet. According to Watanuki, she also doesn't call Kohane by her first name anymore. Hearing this immediately made Watanuki feel uneasy, he says, but he had to ask you about it to make sure his instincts were right. Of course they were. It is indeed troubling.

Some time later, Watanuki convinces you to cut school with him to check on Kohane, and give her the  _bento_  he made. Just as you all were about to eat together, her mother unexpectedly returns. She has a right to be angry: any parent would find it frightening and strange to discover two unknown high school boys at home with their nine year-old daughter. However, it should be clear that the two of you do not pose a threat: you are eating, Kohane clearly called you friends when her mother came in, and Watanuki (who is closest to her) is holding his hands up harmlessly and is offering to leave—if she'll listen. But one look at her face tells you there isn't much hope of that.

Instead, after she's done screeching, blind with anger, she lunges for the open thermos of hot green tea and hurls the contents in Watanuki's face. You could have—never mind. Watanuki first. While she's still gaping, aghast at what she had just done, you drag Watanuki to the bathroom sink and help him bathe his face and eyes in cold water. He could have been badly burned; only his glasses saved his eyes. Watanuki is right. Something is wildly wrong here, and Kohane needs help.

Things only get worse in the succeeding weeks. When you and Watanuki next visit, the public has seized its opportunity to bring down Kohane's credibility as a seer and tear her down as a person. There's graffiti on the walls of the house, vandals have broken windows, planters and fixtures, the grounds are ripped, shredded, and torn by footprints, and a huge crowd grows ever larger, clamoring just outside the gates. Watanuki was forced to give up that time.

The one who is hurt most by the media blowup isn't Kohane, who instinctively ignores everything but that which is vital to her survival. The girl is surprisingly strong and resilient. It is her mother who is harried and driven by it, and under the pressure, she cracks.

Then one day Watanuki insists on heading to Kohane's TV station. He's got a hunch that something is going to happen. He's going to save her more pain, he explains, but he needs you there to be there. He won't tell you exactly why. And when you get there—everything works out just so, much more easily than it should have. It's the power of  _hitsuzen_ , Watanuki mutters, a bit impatiently, as he pulls you along, and the two of you arrive just in time—you could hear Kohane's confession as you were rounding the last corner. There was the distinct sound of a slap. In that moment, Watanuki dives between Kohane-chan and her mother before she can hit Kohane again. Undeterred, the woman raises her hand to hit Watanuki instead, but you dart around and catch her wrist. Seeing that, Watanuki sighs, a relief that's more for Kohane's sake than his own, you think.

With that, the television show is over, the cameras are shut down, and everyone is rushed off-stage.

Kohane had just made it clear that her mother asked her to lie. It was a clever thing to say, and true, but of course everyone will misunderstand her. They will think that the true things that she said were the lies that her mother put in her mouth. But then you think that she meant her statement to be misconstrued. Through this ordeal, Kohane learned the power of rumor. She turned it against her mother. That had to hurt. Yet in so doing, she broke the cycle. She broke it so completely that neither of them could return to the way they had been living.

Despite everything that has happened to her, Kohane is still patient and kind to her mother from afar. In fact, she finally uses the yellow balloon Watanuki gave her to try and take away her mother's pain so she could start over again... That surprised Watanuki. But then, he is only just learning about family, and how wishes don't always directly benefit the wisher.

And now she has a wish for the shop. She explains her decision carefully: perhaps if Kohane becomes happy herself, then her mother might as well. Whatever happens to her mother, however, it has become clear to Kohane that they cannot heal when they are together. There are too many memories. Yuuko takes her exorcist powers in exchange for the wish. Very soon, Kohane leaves the wish-granting shop to live with a business associate of Yuuko's, a wise old truth-seer.

**That Which is Seen May Not Always Be As It Seems**

Watanuki doesn't even protest when you walk with him to school, or sit down to lunch with him anymore. He says your name instead, quietly, and his hand brushes at his dark wispy hair as if he doesn't know what to say beyond that. It is a bit harder to make him spastic, and sometimes he stops himself mid-rant and walks off, distractedly, almost apologetically, always thinking. Or he falls asleep in the middle of the day: in the middle of lunch; of walking home; of putting on his shoes; of getting splashed with hot water. Although it seemed harmless at first, it is quickly becoming much more concerning.

If Yuuko is to be believed, his existence itself is becoming more tenuous. It is all because of a flaw in the universe that is breaking across the worlds…a paradox that may never fully heal. And Watanuki, in a sense, is in the eye of that storm.

When Watanuki returns from the world of dreams, he talks about your grandfather, Haruka, who seems to have adopted him of late and become his spiritual advisor of sorts. Watanuki certainly needs it. You listen to every word avidly, and occasionally chime in with a remembered detail of your own, although sometimes it is hard to suppress spurts of jealousy that Haruka has moved on. It doesn't help when Haruka reveals details about you that you're not sure you ever wanted Watanuki to know—because he's more bothered by the information than you are, and tries to lord the knowledge over you. It is immature, irritating, and frustrating. Although there are also times when Watanuki spills something that reminds you that Haruka still watches and remembers you, even if you so rarely dream him anymore: and that makes it worth it.

Nowadays there are ever more characters—people Watanuki knows, people who are close to him, people who may be saying goodbye but he doesn't understand why—and you can tell that Watanuki is worried and weary. He insists the problem isn't rest. You believe him…because nothing can explain what has befallen him. His body is in this world, but for instants of time, his heart has escaped to another. He does that often, now, and it likewise worries you, but there's naught to be done. At least he doesn't hide it—but that's not even possible. This is happening in plain sight.

One night you think you met him, Watanuki, in a dream. Or was it real? It felt like it could have been. You were walking home from school. You told him to go home and sleep, which was odd because you (and presumably he) were already sleeping. Does he actually get any rest like this? Nonsensically, he told you he couldn't remember his father or mother…

Is there really nothing to be done?

Today Watanuki was mumbling about dreams, and asked you weird questions. "Does my food taste good"? Yes, you reply, incredulously, because he should know this. He can taste it himself, can't he? He knows you wouldn't eat it if it was not good—if you were not completely sure of it—grandfather Haruka already told him that!

Just to make it clear that you think he is off his rocker, you tell him that perhaps he should go home and sleep after all, because if he sleepwalks then he might hit his head. Although you've haven't heard of someone sleep-walking while napping in the daytime before. Kunogi, who hasn't been up on Watanuki's exploits as much since she confessed her cursed condition, is perceptive enough to tell that Watanuki dropped the jumpy idiot act and she worries, too. And then when your offbeat prediction comes true…it's not even funny.  _He almost hit his head on that fence post._

It's a very good thing that Haruka made sure you knew you hadn't got a trace of precognition. If your words had power, that could have been your fault. You feel ghastly.

At last, on a walk to the wishing shop, he tells you what you've been afraid of all along: that he really shouldn't be here, in existence. Not because he's an orphan, exactly, but for a more fundamental reason which he cannot remember. And yet…because of the friends and the people he has met who will remember him as a result of his time in Yuuko's shop, he wants to be here. To stay here. Perhaps it should have reassured you—it is suddenly clear that this is what Yuuko wanted for him all along, wasn't it—but instead it frightens you more than ever. You would never have guessed that he was so close to the brink, and that time was not so long ago. "You won't change your mind?" you ask, with all of your intent behind the question. No, he won't, he replies. You walk on.

Another time, Watanuki asks you to approach some secretaries at a kiosk for him. He says he has a shadow, so he  _is_  human, but other humans may not even acknowledge his existence at this point. He doesn't seem to want to find out if he is right, and frankly, you wouldn't either. Without question, you do it. It still makes you unhappy.

All you want to say is, " _kieru na_." Do not disappear. And repeat it, until it isn't even a possibility.

It is the clearest thread that dashes through his dreams, which he relates to you…through its insistence and repetition, something or someone is continually and desperately trying to convince him that it is worth it, and necessary...

**Insight Into the Future**

Yuuko has given you an egg. It is your responsibility, she says; it must be kept for something that will happen in the future. You must not hesitate. For the sake of two futures, she said… Unlike this egg's twin, nothing will be born from it… so what is it for?

Something is happening. She is preparing for something that is coming.

Soon.

Soon.

Very soon.

But as she is one who lives by  _hitsuzen,_  the witch's view of "soon," of time, is very different from yours.

**The Witch's Star Pupil**

Watanuki is serving his first customer to the wish-granting shop. Yuuko's giving him advice as he needs it, of course, but she's left Watanuki in charge. You are suspicious of Yuuko's intentions in this case. They indicate that there has been a change. Watanuki is now ready to take over her responsibilities. Now that has happened, you get the odd feeling from her that there is no going back.

Watanuki is teaching a woman to cook, which is a rather strange proposal when he can't, apparently, taste anything he eats himself. (You don't understand that at all. Even if his memories of the taste disappeared, why can he not taste it now?) Nevertheless, if anyone could teach another to cook, it would be Watanuki.

His student is a problem. Watanuki's food, potato  _nikkorogashi_ , was fine…but he mixed it with hers, and you didn't know about it until too late. You couldn't eat any of it after that. To any other person, the difference would be too slight to notice, but you knew. There was no warmth, no kindness, no personality at all behind this meal. It didn't taste like …  _anything_.

After that, Watanuki confronted her about it, and she refused to go through with her wish. The habits of the mind will out. In this case her problem revolves around her peculiar revulsion for her own food. Watanuki will find a way.

There comes a day when Watanuki can't find Yuuko, or Mokona, or Maru and Moro. And you know—this can't be good. Even he has the feeling that perhaps he'll never see them again. But, a moment later, Watanuki is still kidding himself. Maybe she's on a trip. Well, true. It's happened before. That might be the case. Still—without telling him? But your gut tells you that's not so. She didn't leave.

You mustn't leave Watanuki's side for now. The day Yuuko promised would come must come soon if she is gone. So you stay with him in the wish-granting shop instead of going home to the temple that day, and despite Watanuki's loud and inventive protests, a strained relief runs beneath it all.

It was going well, until the moment when Watanuki saw the people from his past whom he could not remember, so similar that they look like twins. Then he ran through the house, calling out for Yuuko. The shop was changing. All he could find was Yuuko's  _kiseru_  pipe. She wouldn't leave without it.

After so long, when Watanuki has been leaving his food on her gates every day for weeks, Watanuki's student gets the message. She gets the food and confronts him, and the lessons look set to go on—

_She doesn't remember meeting Yuuko._

Watanuki turns pale as death and he runs home, before you can stop him—

He's collapsed inside the shop.

**The Existences Unrecognized By the Universe**

Yuuko is gone. Watanuki knows, now, and he is unbearably sad. Watanuki's time with her was time she didn't have, but she was very, very careful never to let on. He has decided to wait in the wish-granting shop to wait for her, until Yuuko returns. " _If she ever does"_  is left unspoken, as is " _it could take eternity._ " Watanuki believes in the power of wishes with the stubborn, irrational faith of a child. To force his hand or to crush that faith would rip out his heart.

While he is away, presumably making dinner with Maru and Moro, you probe the witch's familiar, Mokona. Mokona warns you that there is another choice for Watanuki to come, and after it will be the time for the egg. But everything is yours to decide. Finally, deeply unhappy, Mokona tells you how it is to be used…and what it is for, explaining the hint that "nothing will be born from it," so it may be used only once. It's something that must be decided, if it must be decided,  _for_ Watanuki. It would be impossible for Watanuki to go through with it himself.

This particular responsibility is odious, and tempting, and might take away many of the choices Watanuki has made up to now. That is by far the most painful thought of all.

Watanuki. Yuuko. Sakura. Syaoran. Fei-Wong Reed. Images, names and faces pop into your head for no reason at all, and fade as quickly as they come. It is something Watanuki knows.

Running to the storeroom, you slow and stop. Watanuki has a new pair of glasses that he must have received just now. Watanuki has made his other choice. He will not grow old, he may not leave the shop, but his powers will grow and he will stay and take ownership of the wish-granting shop. His blood will no longer draw spirits to him, but he will continue to see them. It is his price, he says.

Did his wish change? Yuuko never did grant the entirety of Watanuki's wish. If she had, he could not run the shop, for he would not be able to see the spirits. Did she plan for that to happen? Surely the exchange between them is still unbalanced? What would happen?

Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing for now.

**The Man in the Cage is a Bird is a Man**

And the years passed.

Your best subject in school was chemistry and physics, but in the end you ended up doing folklore as your major, with a minor in chemistry during college… Watanuki was upset at you for not employing your talents to their fullest, but honestly, he can't begrudge the help he gets from you in the shop, and the folklore major will be helpful someday. It is entirely likely that you will inherit the temple at some point. But just because you had a talent and took enjoyment from something doesn't mean that it was your dream. This way will also bring you happiness…

Once a week you visit him just to have dinner and bring him groceries. If you can't get there, Kohane has to do it. The few times neither of you could make it, Watanuki looked okay but a little out of it. Weirdly, he hardly even noticed the first time it happened. After that, he makes a big show of not forgiving you every time an oversight occurs (though he skips this treatment with Kohane, even when the two of you come together to apologize).

Still, you mustn't let it happen more than it must, if only to make sure that Watanuki is alive and well, and to impress upon him the importance of precaution and relying a little more on others. It has happened a few times already, times when Watanuki misjudged a wish and was badly hurt by it. He always makes excuses for it. In fact, in his first year the accidents happened enough times that Kunogi, so distant from the action, become protective when she heard about that season's series of incidents. She called him up and gave him a stern scolding for his recklessness. With time, he does improve in that regard, and with practice, Watanuki becomes more adept at the slippery, sliding, sideways thinking that is needed to grant the wishes properly without getting hurt, and the incidents get fewer.

Physically, Watanuki grew until he hit the height of youth, and then the years stopped for him. His chin has gotten pointier and his face more delicate, his limbs slightly longer but also thicker and more proportional, and his slender fingers are elongated. He doesn't spend enough time outside, so his skin is still milky pale. The college girls you know would be too awed to approach him because he's simply too  _beautiful._  He could almost be the descendant of the celestially radiant immortal stars. His humanity's saving grace is that his hair is still too wispy to lie flat (ever since the  _raijuu_  zapped him, Watanuki claims that his hair has been extra sensitive to static electricity), and he is still shorter than you  _and_  still incensed by the height difference. He must be something like nineteen now, biologically speaking, although you think his time was stopped at seventeen.

Even Watanuki doesn't know his own age, and apparently, didn't even know his grade in high school when he took on the shop full time. It makes you sigh every time you think of it. It raises questions like: How did Watanuki know who was  _sempai_  and who was  _kohai_? He must have known, he so rarely got in trouble with the other students, and you did see him fetching things for others on occasion. Why did Watanuki forget his the face of his landlady, when he remembered the ghost-boy eaten by the  _sakura_  trees during those same years? How did he even know what he was doing in the time he has now forgotten? How the heck did he even get born, how did he survive up until now? Whatever memory-wipe Yuuko did in the past was more than a little heavy-handed, and that probably did not help his existential crisis. But of course, by now that's all water under the bridge.  _Mizu ni nagasu._

Watanuki has lately taken to wearing kimonos like Yuuko, and smoking the  _kiseru_ pipe like Yuuko. He even takes life easy—sleeping in and waking up late—like Yuuko, although as her part-time worker he was always very disciplined. He drinks saké on his own occasionally, which he wouldn't even think of doing before. You could never imagine in a thousand years that he would want, or be able, to achieve this, but he actually  _lounges_  like Yuuko. And sometimes he lets his eyelids fall halfway, he smiles mysteriously, and appears to look through you, to the beyond, just like Yuuko did, as if he knows everything. Whatever he says next will tend to eerily confirm this idea.

Maybe it's natural to start acting like her, having so many hours in his life and relatively little to fill them with. Her habits don't quite fit him yet. Or, well, it's not that. Seeing him use them fools you into thinking that the movements are natural until you remember, with a jolt, that the only way he could have adopted Yuuko's grace so completely is if he practiced very hard at it. It is difficult to imagine him doing that. At the same time, he has matured in many respects—it was just hard to see the growth until Yuuko's cloak of sophistication masked the jumpy idiot act that made it so hard to take him seriously in high school.

Eventually Watanuki expands his new wardrobe beyond the kimonos to include augmented Chinese-style robes, which must come from his own interest. It's then that you know that Watanuki has made Yuuko's style blend seamlessly with his own, and that allows you to accept it. You think the interest might stem from when he found a couple of letters left behind by Yuuko, remnants of a correspondence between herself and a certain Clow Reed; you don't know what they said, but they seemed to have given him ideas.

As expected, Watanuki seems somewhat lonely, although he makes the best of his situation: he plays with Maru and Moro and Mokona, something he did only occasionally while working part-time; in so doing, he keeps himself entertained. Almost always, he carries the pipe fox Mugetsu, unless he falls asleep and Mugetsu becomes bored and slithers away (but he usually comes back when Watanuki wakes up). Although sometimes it seems—though there is no way to confirm this—that the shop itself makes his burden a little easier by slurring together the days in between customers or visitors, of which there are many. It also helps that Watanuki is a dream-seer, and his slow, mindful, fluid and borderless style of magic sucks up time like a sponge. Even if he  _says_  it's just a nap…ever since his power began to develop, sleep has never been just sleep.

There are times when Watanuki drinks a little too much (never in extreme excess, mind, he's not a bottle-fairy like Yuuko—he's more likely to accuse you of being one) and the loneliness comes back, full flood. It doesn't make him weepy; just the opposite. His eyes get a brittle, glazed look, so that the deep blue of his left eye pales to a shallow gray, and the brightness of the right green eye softens and dims, turning murky. At those times, he won't let you look through his right eye.

Sometimes, he'll subtly shift his posture to a more provocative stance, as if he's fishing for a particular response—although if you asked, he would probably deny or be unable to define what he was looking for. It's not like he's aware enough to make an explicit invitation. Although after watching for these moods, and especially after the incident with the Jorou-gumo, you think you know what the problem is. It is not something you can give in the quantity that he requires. In fact, even if you could give it, he would be conflicted and ashamed of himself afterwards, making everything worse. It would not be right between you. What he is instinctively groping towards is a blind want, not a need, but the root of the instinct is to fill a need. Specifically, human contact.

So instead you grip his shoulder, or surreptitiously brush his hand, and usually he smiles and pulls away. For a while the need is put at bay. At other times he only gets more agitated. He can't sit still, and his hands shake. You will remind him to call for Mugetsu, who is never very far away. With the pipe fox hypnotically twining itself about his hands and fingers, stretching sometimes to rub itself against Watanuki's face or along the line of his jaw, the glaze on his eyes dissolves and his breathing comes easier. This is a side of himself that he never shows to anyone else, which makes it all the more saddening. Because of all the difficulties Watanuki has endured because of his decision to wait for Yuuko in this shop, alone except for his customers, yourself and Kohane, this is the worst consequence.

On one of these occasions, your frustration on his behalf urges you to speak. "You know, other people might be driven mad by the fate you chose for yourself."

He looks at you, tilts his head down, and measures your mood. "I know," Watanuki says. "I really do. The fact that I..." he falters, "...can live...is amazing. That I can live this way would astonish many people. That I can—that does not mean I am strong, nor that others are weak. It is just...my birthright, I guess." He closes his eyes and murmurs, "I was lucky." Then he opens his eyes, but only halfway. "The price was  _almost_  right. To me...what Syaoran chose..." He shakes his head. "And yet we are the same. If that's what my payment seems to you, then—I can almost understand. And I'm sorry. But I won't change my wish, or the price. But I try to remember ... what Haruka warned me ... that I must never ... make ... make Yuuko cry." And he lapses into silence. Moments later, his consciousness has lapsed into sleep.

There's nothing you can say to that. At least he knows.

**Meeting of Eyes, Meeting of Minds**

Once a year, everyone comes to the shop on his birthday: you, Kohane, and Kunogi come, and even Kohane's mentor the truth-seer comes every couple of years. Kunogi calls as often as she can, though she can't visit more often because of her condition. Kohane stops by as often as she may, and sometimes you cross paths with her, or she helps you with an errand of Watanuki's.

When Kohane grew to the same age as Watanuki, you grew a little concerned that maybe he would fall in love with her, but his feelings never changed: if anything, she became close as a sister rather than dearer as a friend. Watanuki is never happier than when she stops by and he sees that she has grown a little more, and become that much more beautiful. He misses seeing her life. (In that respect he reminds you of your grandmothers who cheerfully, albeit wistfully, doted on your girl cousins who grew up on the other side of Japan. The resemblance is bemusing.) Eventually, Kohane is able to inform you both that both she and her mother have each found happiness.

One March 3rd, you come over and it is your birthday. You wondered if he would notice, and at first you thought he didn't. He starts a short discussion of the festival and symbols that have come to bear on that day, and finally awards you with a present. Eventually you get the feeling that he was testing your folklore knowledge just to see if you could properly appreciate what he gives you: specifically, the evil-warding properties he has been driving at. Even so, the worth of the object—a thick peachwood ring, supposed to be used as a thimble—is not immediately apparent. With a few hints, Watanuki guides you through its use and with little further preparation or explanation, provides the crisis necessary for you to bond with it. Turns out, appropriately enough, its other form is an exorcising bow. You know exactly what to do with  _that_. You shoot the demon that slipped in through the gap Watanuki opened in the wards moments before it would have collided into him.

Watanuki's glasses, the ones he got from Syaoran, have broken again.

Though these are the only casualty, you don't suppose he could have told you before he took another stupid risk? Well, perhaps not stupid. Like Yuuko, he calculates his odds  _exactly_ , with very little room for error. It's still enough to make you worry.

After watching you think, Watanuki leans back with a small smile of satisfaction on his face. That's all that he wanted to see. Worry.

What a needy idiot.

Apparently he's given you a hand-me-down from the Jorou-gumo. It's a near priceless gift — as valuable as his left eye, once upon a time. So there is a little more to this gift than meets the eye. You wonder what he could be trying to tell you. And then, suddenly, it comes:

"If things get dangerous, use it without hesitation. No matter what happens." There is no laughter left in Watanuki's eyes as he says it.

Your mind flashes back to that day you returned from the archery competition, the day your friendship came to the test. The day you prepared to shoot him with the exorcising arrow for his own good, no matter what it might do to him, or what he thought about it afterwards… "I might use it on you," you say evenly, as if it's not an effort to appear unaffected. Your heart is now quickening, now stuttering with unease that won't make it to your face.

"Especially if you have to…use it on me." Watanuki cocks his head and smiles fondly with just a touch of ruefulness. It says:  _I'm sorry, but I'm glad you did what you did and you can do it as many times as you have to. I ask you to._

He remembers. He always remembers. But you  _shouldn't_  have to use the ring that way, because he's gotten better!

Oh.  _Dammit_. If you let his meaning slip sideways...Yuuko's egg...if you use it...that's what he's really talking about, here. Of course he knows. You didn't want to be reminded of this. The choice is still there in the open, waiting to be made.

It would be a whole lot easier if the choice of the egg meant two actions rather than a choice between action, and delay. At times it doesn't seem like a choice at all. It may well be the wrong choice to use it. You dread that someday you might break down and choose to use it while  _knowing_  it would be wrong, just so that you could never delay the choice again.

It isn't very long after that when the time comes to use the gift Watanuki gave you. This test is far more strenuous than the last, and the outcome isn't entirely pleasing. It has been a long time since Watanuki been hurt so badly by a wish. After a short conversation with Mokona, you conclude that the injury is understandable given the restrictions of the task and the fact that Watanuki asked for your help and protection before he needed it. It was not a question of balance or miscalculation. Watanuki did what he could, though he could do little because he was trying to protect another—an unborn child. He didn't tell you what he was planning, or who he was doing it for.

Oddly enough, it was Kohane's grandmotherly mentor, the truth-seer, who explained and teased apart his reasoning for you. Perhaps Watanuki thought you would be upset if you knew he was going to deliberately put himself in danger? But how could you be? You realize that it's rather like the time when he protected Kohane from her mother, but doing so left him defenseless, so he took you along to protect  _him_. He couldn't not do it, it's not in his nature to refuse someone in need like that out of concern for his own well-being; the important thing was that he didn't try to do it all alone. He did so.

It's not just times like that, though. Watanuki is habitually close-mouthed about his work. He prefers to keep it to himself except when something important comes up. And when he asks for help, like Yuuko-san, he tells you little more than what you need to know at the time. Once, when you pressed him, he told you that it created fewer circumstances in which to fail the granting of the wish, which would be disastrous. You're not sure if you buy that explanation.

But you know generally what has been going on: the  _shamisen_  player, the pipe-cleaner, the Jorou-Gumo and the mermaid's red pearl, and the kitsune. It makes him uncomfortable to discuss the details. The things he learns seem to come arrowing closer to his heart than he would like. Unfortunately that is exactly what the supernatural is wont to do: lay bare the weaknesses. Watanuki doesn't like to mull over them with others, so he glosses over the incidents. He rarely tells you anything about the few times he sees Syaoran and Sakura either, though occasionally you have received rare glimpses of them through his eyes. Though they have physically met but once or twice, they are dear to him for reasons he can't quite explain. They have begun to speak to each other occasionally through the Mokonas.

And so, it's no surprise then when Watanuki becomes aware of a case that pertains to you, and had the potential to harm you, he asks you to distance yourself from him and deals with it quietly with a bare minimum of your knowledge. You respect the fact that he doesn't want to pain you. That trust in him is all that holds the gnawing, gawking curiosity at bay. For his part, Watanuki probably doesn't want to talk about it because he'd rather not think about how he might be forced to hurt you because of his job as shopkeeper, as it seems he was almost compelled to do. The thought is chilling.

At times Watanuki seems to be preparing, bracing against a future that nobody else can sense. And you think of the egg, of Yuuko's warning; if Watanuki's fears come to pass, then maybe that is time to use it. Oddly, Watanuki rarely considers the impact of that future on himself. On  _Chouyou_ , for instance, he brewed chrysanthemum wine to ward bad luck for everyone he knew. When you walked in on the process, you watched as he leapt from one thought to another, so full of goodwill plans that you immediately knew he wouldn't leave enough for himself. So you spoke up, and he gave you that soft, peaceful half-smile and agreed without fuss: "All right." This smile said he was waiting for you to say something—that he wasn't surprised you reminded him of something he should have thought of for himself.

But nothing happens. Nothing ever, ever, happens. Not to him, and not to any of you, the ones he wishes to keep protected. So maybe he's not preparing at all. Maybe Watanuki's gifts—the ring, the wine, the hei-gushi house charm he promised your family, among other, smaller trinkets over the years—maybe that's all they are, and they represent nothing more. Maybe Watanuki just wants to be useful, to do something for his friends than his skills as a cook. But you don't know, and he'll never tell, not until the day of reckoning.

But there are so many more moments you cherish together. Chrysanthemum wine. The mysterious story of a secretive couple who may meet only under an umbrella with a spy charm. Early on, as payment for a wish, Watanuki acquired a  _shamisen_  that could not be played with a  _bachi,_ or plectrum. The  _shamisen_  likes to roam the shop, hoping to get noticed. The songs Watanuki plays on it are beautiful, no matter what he says about "not practicing much" or that he knows "only three songs and one of them is from an  _anime_  which Mokona forced me to learn." He says the  _shamisen_  teaches him the tunes, and occasionally, the lyrics. It's not easy to persuade him to play, but whenever he does, the music easily pulls you into its thrall. No one else can reproduce the full beauty of that music. If he could leave the wish-granting shop, you would invite him to the folklore section of the college, and he would be so popular that he could never leave… Ah, idle thoughts, the kind of thoughts that flit through your mind when Watanuki is serenading under the moon after a couple of glasses of saké. These are the wistful thoughts that swirl about your mind while you listen and chow on his delicious snacks while he's not looking.

There are moments when, without warning, no matter where on the face of the Earth you are or whatever you are doing, the bond you share with Watanuki shivers as though it has been plucked. It never fails to get your attention. At those times, you pause in the middle of your work and close your eyes to relish sights of supernatural, otherworldly beauty that Watanuki sometimes allows you to see through his right eye, telepathically, despite the miles and miles that distance you. These are those entrancing sights that only you and he will ever get to see once in your life, the ones he could not keep to himself for selfishness, the ones that burnish painfully with that terrible, awful powerful beauty that provokes awe and despair in equal measure. You can both feel the difference as the vision is transformed, changed, for by the sharing, it is made a little more mortal, a little more bearable.

He trusts you, doesn't he? There is no denying it anymore.

For the longest time, you were preoccupied with earning it; but now that you have it, it remains to be seen whether you are worthy of it. For you hold his life in his hands, and he is unaware. Does that make you unworthy? Have you already betrayed his trust by keeping this truth, this egg that you  _know_  will hurt him hidden from him? There is no room for fear, and yet there is so very much of it. Every time, you rein in your doubts, and you hold it in, and you hold it in.

Life goes on.


	3. Hope

**Surveying the Lay of the Future**

And then it gets away from you. Or rather, it has gotten away from him.

Even Kunogi Himawari has found someone to marry. Astonishingly, her husband is entirely ordinary, and not entirely immune to the curse either. But somehow, she seems happy.

And your own mortality confronted you. Normally it wouldn't bother you—not for your own sake. The question is, when you're gone, who will be there to take care of Watanuki? For the time being, you've decided to do nothing with egg, but it is entirely possible that Watanuki will outlive you.

Likewise, Kohane approached you with this idea in mind.

There's something to her proposal, and there is a kind of love between you, in one of its indefinable forms. So you agree to marry her. And the love grows, and flowers in new directions. Life is good, and you are both quietly happy.

As she has always done, when the silence becomes too thick, the air too stilted with tension, Kohane gently bridges the gap between you and Watanuki with a single quiet word, a look, or a soothing gesture. When the shop closes around just the two of you, as it sometimes does, she slips away and lets you alone. But as the years go on, she becomes more and more reluctant to intrude on the bond between you and Watanuki as she becomes sensitive to her position as the third wheel. Watanuki is as gracious and kind to her as ever, but both of you are lost and mystified as to how to coax her out of her withdrawal.

When you ask her about it, she tries to avoid the question for days. Finally she confides that she finds it oppressive to be with Watanuki when he is in the same room with you, because your friendship operates on an intensity that she can never hope to rival, as if you were communicating with each other on a frequency that she cannot hear. She knows she doesn't hold Watanuki's attention anymore. And she just...feels lonely. And she realizes that Watanuki probably feels the same way about her and you, because he feels guilty whenever she is in the room. For taking up time that Watanuki feels should be hers. So it would be easier if...

She blinks, seeming to realize what she has just said. There is an embarrassing non-almost-argument wherein she explains very hurriedly and quickly that she would never suspect you of infidelity and of course nothing was wrong, you give her more than enough time. In turn, you explain very quickly and hurriedly to reassure her that of course she is right, and of course you would never do  _that_  to her. Then you snap your mouth shut, realizing it would be unwise to explain your reasoning in any further detail.

_Not without her knowledge, at least, and you have no plans to—Watanuki is in a very bad place but it somehow seems like a very bad idea—so even if that was possible you don't think you would—that's not what he needs, it's not a matter of want. He's a good friend, that's all. A good friend you would do anything to help get back on his feet—_

Those were the thoughts running in the undercurrents of your mind. Looking back on them makes you feel wretched, as if you have been disloyal somehow, that you had unthinkingly committed a grave error. Something is wrong. Even if Kohane said she would allow such a liaison, it would surely hurt her, but you hadn't thought about that, only about Watanuki's happiness. If you are to be completely pure and honest with yourself and Kohane, you cannot entertain the notion of such a thing. There must be a line drawn. It is a matter of honor. This is the part of you that is  _all_   _hers,_ that belongs to no one else. If that was not so, what on earth does marriage mean?

Kohane blushes, and you feel yourself turning red, also. You stutter apologies, almost incoherent. She says she trusts you; it's just hard, and she knows how Watanuki must feel about you and her, and has empathy for it. The subject is never brought up again in conversation. It never needs to. It was a lesson you needed to hear.

Sometimes you wonder who you love more—Kohane or Watanuki—and which is more important to you. For years you wondered, unable to decide. Although the marriage was never really about what was  _fair_ , your wish is to do right by Kohane. Sometimes you worry that you are shortchanging her. When you ask, she insists that nothing is wrong, but given her family situation when she was young, you are still not entirely sure of whether to trust her answer. She might think this situation is normal when it actually isn't.

It takes time, but as you work through the dilemma in your head, eventually you realize that it doesn't matter any more; the love is different, but equal, and that is that. As long as you have them both, beholden to them in so many different ways, it shouldn't matter who comes first. It is probably unwise to dwell on simplistic hypothetical choices that force the thinker to trade one life for another. It is impossible for you to choose at this late date, and Kohane knows this, knew it from the minute she proposed. She is comfortable with the situation as it is. To her, this—steadfast happiness—this is bliss. It therefore must be  _you_  who are restless, who wishes to cleave more tightly to Kohane in order to reach some sort of balance.

It suddenly dawns on you that there are things you have yet to do to correct this. Now is the time, and you are ready. It is as if you had just opened your eyes again—and suddenly you see, with some surprise, that she has been ready for the next step for some time. So you ask, at last, and she turns a face of amused affection on you. Is it time?  _Yes_ , it is time. What were  _you_  waiting for?

Then you have children, and love them very much. Kohane mothers them with all the abundant warmth she never received from her own mother, although she confesses that at times she feels inadequate. You reassure her often, and intervene when she is overwhelmed: doing some cooking, taking the children on outings, helping with homework, talking to them about their problems, running errands. The balance of child-raising in your house is much more balanced than in those of your peers; but although different, you believe it is a good thing, a strength in your family, a sign that you are doing well. As soon as the children are old enough you pay the price so that they can enter the shop, and you introduce them to Watanuki. They will outlive you, after all.

Watanuki becomes more and more grateful for the time you spend with him with every passing year. It's impossible to convince him that it isn't the bother he thinks it is. This is probably because he seems to enjoy giving you mischief for growing old on him.

**Blind Eye**

You are not as quick as you once were, and you are starting to feel it. Watanuki does not seem to see it.

Although you were slow to sense it, you begin to realize there is discontent among the children regarding your relationship with Watanuki. You do not know where it comes from, but it has flowed out of something deep and painful and nasty. All of your inquiries are met with shame. They love and honor you, so they will not confront you about the problem. No, indeed, you hear whispers; all the simmering suspicion and blame and resentment and even scandal that you hear through closed doors is reserved only for Watanuki.

There has been some misunderstanding. You fear it is too late to correct it. But just what the problem is...

It started with Kohane's death, so peaceful and quiet, that was nevertheless a huge blow to you all. The first stirrings began then. It probably began as a reaction borne of grief, but it has since become something more.

That your own children would believe...

You are deeply frustrated and perplexed and disappointed in them, all the more so for they refuse to take notice of what you say when it comes to him. They dismiss it all. They do not trust you, not in this area. But if they do not trust you here, what other insecurities and troubles could they be hiding from you in scorn?

People change in the intervening years. You knew that would happen—they got married, found jobs, went to work, had kids of their own. There were influences, of course there were; but you cannot believe that they would become so cynical. There were hints of discontent, little comments every now and then: you thought you answered them to the best of your ability. Against the influences of the world, they must not have believed you. Somehow, what had been a whole, loving understanding has become warped.

Were you blind, that this could have happened?

The children would not believe how Kohane's death rocked your world to the core, knocking it from its foundations. There was the grief. That in itself was not simple to wrestle with.

But her last dreams that she shared with you, as you helped her through her pain, she sorted through her dreams and memories and experiences as her foster grandmother the seer taught her to do. She showed you the future, painted in fragments—those were—

Time was of the essence, it was slipping away from her, and what she wanted to convey to you was urgent. During the last week of her life, you did not leave her side, even for Watanuki's sake.

She had a plan, even in those last days. She said she knew of the burden you had been carrying for Watanuki, and it was in her power as a dream-seer to give you a choice, a bid for more time. She, too, wanted the best for Watanuki. But though it was time for her to go, you might have another chance. She wished you luck. It seemed the wisest option. She described what you would do. The way seemed impossible as things stood, but you promised you would remember when the time came.

She pushed you out of her dreams firmly but gently. Then she smiled, and died.

The children knew nothing of that.

Sure enough, the elements began slotting themselves into place. She hadn't described how they would, but they had.

Certain of Haruka's missives unexpectedly came to light of day. The descendant of a correspondent of his, a long-lost relative who was also a prominent magic-worker, auspiciously brought them back. The descendant had obviously never read them, a fact for which you were thankful later. You read them, and the hair stood up on the back of your neck. They were family histories, rites, practices that had all but been forgotten.

Haruka kept an awful lot of secrets, not all of which were pleasant. What you held in your hands was—it was a highly practical method for your purposes, but it was dark and highly dangerous and highly unpleasant to contemplate. Many of your ancestors had risked it, however.

You made quiet arrangements in your will. You contacted certain of your relatives. Your eldest, the quietest and most sensible, you thought, could be trusted with Watanuki's well-being, whatever his own reservations on the matter. He did not defend Watanuki from the mutterings of his siblings, but you had never heard him impugn his name, either.

You had what you needed to make the choice. The stars had aligned. What had been impossible shortly became possible. So you did what you had to do.

Watanuki did not take it well, though it was all done for his sake. But you hadn't really expected him to, even though your choice is essentially the same as his to wait for Yuuko, just in a different form.

This is your wish. The price is the risk...of failure, of death, of the spell going wrong, of Watanuki's wrath, of missing change in Watanuki's life, of Watanuki fading entirely without you. Come what may, you risk it.

**Generations**

On the day you died, a satisfied smile on your lips for having lived a full and wholesome life, your great-grandson was born. It cannot be a coincidence that he was named Shizuka.

[...]

On the day you were born, your great-grandfather died. Of course it isn't a coincidence that he was also named Shizuka. There's a part of you that isn't quite yourself; it's  _him_ , a part of  _him_  that made itself at home in you. So at home, in fact, that there is barely any difference between you, a difference so slight that you only became aware of it the very day you entered the wish-granting shop at the age of fifteen.

Watanuki — for that was what you called him from the start, without hesitation, without the honorific — seemed to recognize the resemblance immediately. He was rather amused by your hasty apology afterwards. In confusion, you offer to call him "Watanuki-sama" and he actually laughs, which of course makes it worse. In reply, he asks if he may call you Shizuka, just to cement the difference between the two of you in his mind, and please just call him Watanuki without the honorific. He explains that "Watanuki-sama" reminds him of his schoolboy days when he was a completely arrogant young fool and wanted to impress and (or?) humiliate Doumeki at the same time...or something. It just seems ridiculous to him now, because that life is so far away, and he says that if you called him that, it would probably still give him airs. He keeps fidgeting while he says this.

Watanuki's idea of "airs" seems more like "spasms" to you, but ok _ay_...

"Didn't you call my great-grandfather by his first name?" you inquire. Why shouldn't he have? They were close.

Watanuki's laugh flutters briefly. "Oh, no. I could never! He was a Doumeki. Through and through. He might as well have been a rock. 'Quiet' or 'peaceful' just wasn't the right way to describe him. He was too stiff." He slides his eyes over to meet yours. "It may describe you better, though. You're less rude." His eyes glint with humor. "But if you must know, we didn't like each other very much at first. By the time we became good friends...well. I was already calling him Doumeki, and Doumeki never asked me to call him otherwise, so I never took the next step. He never asked to call me by my first name, either. It happens more often than you'd think. Can you think of calling your teachers anything other than  _sensei_? It's so ingrained that if they let you, you would call them ' _sensei_ ' for the rest of your life, no matter what might happen between you after school was over? Yes? It was the same for us."

In the end, your great-grandfather never made a decision one way or another on the matter of Watanuki. You have inherited the choice, and a few of his effects like the peachwood ring (it does work for you; with Watanuki's encouragement, you also learned archery), but so far, you have been unable to do anything about it. Perhaps there is nothing that  _should_  be done.

If there is any difference between you, that is your great-grandfather and yourself, it is the difference between how you see Watanuki. Watanuki, of course, has taken it in stride. Your great-grandfather was highly protective of him while you…frankly, you are a little in awe of him.

And then there's the butterfly dream, a dream for which Watanuki has been waiting for over a hundred years, the one that plays out according to the pattern of the first story in  _Ten Nights of Dreams_. The dream is slow to reveal itself; it takes many many successive weeks of visits for Watanuki to reach the end of it. And he finds...it was Yuuko's dream. One last prophetic remnant of herself.

And she showed him what he needed to know. Watanuki can leave, if he wishes.

Is it because his powers are  _strong_ , or perhaps it would be more accurate to say,  _controlled_  enough? Or is it because his payment is over? The meaning seems ambiguous, unclear. You wonder if he will ever take the chance to go outside, and risk losing Yuuko… Will she come back for good after all? Or will she not? How could seeing her this way, just this once, be repayment enough for a hundred years? Or is this too much to ask of the dead, of the one who ceased to be?

**Messages in Dreams, Dreams in a Bottle**

Your great-grandfather remembers: on the first night when Watanuki began working for the shop, when Watanuki blew on Yuuko's pipe, he loosed a stream of butterflies. Yuuko's symbol. One last gift she left for him.

What you see now, slightly more than one hundred years later: Watanuki blows on Yuuko's pipe and looses a flock of birds. The symbol he chose for himself.

Perhaps they—the birds and the butterflies—contained a dream. If so, for whom is Watanuki's dream intended?

Birds are the symbols of freedom, yet are often trapped (or confined; at times it is their choice) in cages, needing the companionship of others to be happy, depending on them completely, yet freely giving happiness to others. They may also indicate the movement of undetectable forces in an unseen world, though that very sensitivity puts them in danger. The choice of the bird as his symbol may have seemed deceptively simple and childlike, but it was nevertheless full of meaning and history; that was Watanuki Kimihiro.

Butterflies are symbols of freedom, too, and also fate,  _hitsuzen_ , choice, change, and dreams, and the cycle of life and death. Butterflies worry for no one, can exist with companionship or without it; the fleeting life of a butterfly is missed by only a few—in short, only by those who happened to notice its death. They are the product of complete transformation, the final form, the adult. The parent. That is Ichihara Yuuko, and what she meant to Watanuki.

**Song of the Shamisen**

" _Burned by love: louder than the chirping cicada_

_Is the silent firefly, whose body burns."_

" _To meet is joy…to part is pain…_

_How fine it would be…to meet but never to part…_

_But when you're in love…there is nothing that can be done…"_

**Messages Across Time and Space**

_Volume 15: "Yes, the dream will soon end."_

_Volume 16: "And I will always be waiting. Always."_

_Volume 17: "Even so…sorry."_

_Volume 18: "So for now, cross the bridge and wait…"_

And we wait:

For the dream of a butterfly.

For a sign: the first night of  _Ten Nights of Dreams_

For Ichihara Yuuko

(it is not her true name)

(not  _true_  Yuuko, true name unknown, the one who lived so long, who was known and loved…)

(it will be one with a spirit as close to hers as a mirror image)

(never a clone, never again, nor a living statue in stasis, as Clow Reed thought her so)

(there will be no more paradoxes)

For release from the fragile embrace of existence that was her wish…life...in death, for there will be no vanishing.

( _kieru na_ )

For the granting of a single, simple wish that is neither common nor simple.

(we all wish it)

(life)

(eternal)

(isn't that right,  _Kami-_ sama?)

(the price was not right, but it was as close as we could come)

(for the future)

(we are waiting)

(come now)

( _Tsubasa_ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was quite hard to write, not because of the peculiar combination of the predominantly present tense/second person viewpoint, but actually because of the research. I had to comb through the entire story, especially the later volumes (which were subtle), to pick out details that would be most important to Doumeki and his relationship with Watanuki. Plus I had to untangle my own confused perceptions of what happened from watching/reading the anime and manga at the same time! And I thought this would be quick—ha! Anyway, I hope you liked this.
> 
> If you've gotten this far, please review and tell me what you're thinking. Good, bad, something you didn't understand? Whatever you please. Complaints even. I welcome them. Silence is death.
> 
> As for everyone who has been so kind as to leave a review, thank you very much! It means a lot to me. Everyone has said such sweet things so far.
> 
> I have finally started posting the continuation of this story, which will take it beyond canon and into the realm of the imagination. The working title so far is "Shall Your Wish Be Granted." Three guesses what that means; I bet you don't even need so many. I'm not sure what the recent announcement of XxxHolic: Rei will do to it, but I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.
> 
> If you'd like a list of my influences, just ask. There are a lot.


End file.
